


3 a.m. Musings

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s07e19 Hollywood A.D., F/M, Fluff, New Relationship, mulder and scully try to communicate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 16:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15174896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Scully goes to Mulder's apartment when she can't sleep.





	3 a.m. Musings

“So, Scully,” Mulder turns down the volume on the TV; he could mute it, she thinks, and reiterate the whole movie to her with his eyes closed. Who watches a movie 42 times? “Scully?” He is grinning at her and Scully is thankful that the room is bathed in only a dim, confused light, hoping it’s enough to cover up her blush. Lately, Mulder does that to her; make her lose her train of thoughts, her whole mind.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” His head is in his hands, his elbows on his thighs. His attention is on her and her only. This, too, is a recent development. She’s caught glimpses of it, of him, in the last seven years, but it’s never been like this. He blinks lazily at her, waiting. Scully wonders if he’s tired at all. 

“It’s late,” she says, avoiding the question and stating the obvious. Yet Mulder rewards her with a bright, clumsy grin that causes the corners of her mouths to twitch in sympathy.

“Is it really? You could argue that it’s early. Just really, really early.” His chuckle sounds boyish, younger than she’s ever known him. She likes it. Likes everything about this new path they’re on. In many ways it’s not new; it’s just a different direction, a hidden track they’ve never dared to set foot on. Halfway through, Scully can’t tell how it ends. If it does at all. 

“Why was your door unlocked, Mulder?” It’s only now that she realizes it; he didn’t ask her why she came here tonight, in the middle of the night. He let her in as if this was the most normal thing they’ve ever done, his apartment unlocked, his heart, too. 

“Habit, I guess. So?”

“So what?”

“Why couldn’t you sleep? Nightmares? Don’t worry about this probation vacation. Skinner is going-”

“That’s not the reason.” Scully turns to the TV screen. She hasn’t seen this movie in years and never as often as Mulder has. She can’t tear her eyes away, tries to understand the dialogue. But Mulder is insistently loud in his gaze, in his presence and she faces him again. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t prod. She came here; she came to him tonight.

“If I tell you,” she begins, stops herself to gather courage, “if I tell you, will you tell me – honestly – why your door was unlocked?” Mulder is surprised by her request, but nods in agreement. Scully takes a deep breath, takes in the scent that she’s come to think of as essential Mulder; warm leather mingled with the slightly salty aroma of sunflower seeds. This, at least, hasn’t changed. She hopes it never will.

“I was thinking about the case,” he gives her a look, “I know we’re off it, but when has that ever stopped us, Mulder?”

“Fair enough.”

“I was thinking about the case and those thoughts turned into thoughts about… you.”

“I hope you don’t consider me Jesus Christ.”

“Mulder, will you just shut up? No, I found myself wanting to talk to you about it. Then I realized that it wasn’t even about the case. I found I wanted to talk to you.” Her cheeks are a deep red, flushed. Scully doesn’t look at him, doesn’t dare.

“You could have called.” His voice is gentle, sounds closer than moments ago.

“I could have, but… I didn’t just want to talk, I- I wanted to be… here. Your turn,” Scully adds quickly, sitting up straight. Mulder’s expression is pure wonderment as she allows herself to face him. 

“I uhm, I was maybe thinking,” Mulder squirms, ends up even closer to her so that their thighs are touching, “I thought maybe after today, after all we’ve recently… that you, you know, just maybe, you'd… that maybe you’d, you know.” His inability to articulate himself on top of her embarrassment makes her giggle. She feels his eyes on her, wishes she could know what he’s thinking as he’s watching her. All she knows is that his gaze is warm and makes her tingle all over.

“Very well said, Mulder.”

“You know me.” He shrugs, gives her a smile, now.

“Can we lock the door before we go to sleep?” Scully isn’t sure where the surge of braveness comes from; she is as surprised as Mulder, who draws his bottom lip in between his teeth as if afraid to say the wrong thing, to say anything. When he nods, finally, Scully gets up and, as if this was her apartment and not his, she locks the door, double checks. She returns, slips off her shoes, her blazer. Mulder watches her, swallows, before he finds his voice again.

“Are you sure?” As sure as she’s ever been of anything. She didn’t know why she came here tonight, not really. Her only drive the need, the want, to see Mulder. To know he was close enough to touch, close enough to feel. She knows what she wants; to take the next step. A small one, but one that propels them forward. It started with a kiss not long ago. Was derailed by a family tragedy 30 years in the making; a tragedy that ended one California night at last, silently. That night Mulder told her he was free. Tonight, Scully sees it in his eyes, accepts her own fear and takes his hand into hers. They’re going to do this together.

“I’m sure,” she says, murmurs, trying to coax him to lie down, “but just to sleep, Mulder. I don’t think we should-” He silences her first with a fingertip, soft, salty and she almost regrets her words, then with the gentle caress of his lips.

“I’ve been waiting to do this again for so long.” The words tumble out of him in relief, against her lips. She catches all of them; she’s been waiting, too. Scully lies down on the narrow couch, taking Mulder with her. He comes without complaint, spoons her easily. She secures his arm around her and he gasps, mouths a sorry, when his hand brushes her breast.

“Not tonight,” Scully says again, convincing herself and him.

“I know, I wasn’t trying to… do you really think this is a good idea? I have a bed.”

“Like this,” Scully says, her mouth grazing his knuckles, leaving tiny kisses against his skin. “It has to be like this.”

“I’ll do whatever you say, Scully,” Mulder chuckles into her hair and she sighs softly, realizes how funny this is, really. He never listens to her, never does what she tells him. But tonight… tonight is different.

“You’ve really seen this movie 42 times?” A last kiss against his hand; she is not going to let go, knows he’ll be there in the morning. Scully closes her eyes. “Tell me what happens, Mulder. I want to know.” She falls asleep against the hum of his chest, feels safe in the sound of his voice. She doesn’t find out how it ends


End file.
